


Hopes and Lies

by Gellsbells



Category: Charmed (TV 2018)
Genre: Alternate Reality, Angst, Emotional Manipulation, F/M, Family Feels, Friendship, Gen, Major Character Death (Sort of), Nightmares, Poor Harry, Self-Medication, slight Maggie x Parker
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-16
Updated: 2019-06-16
Packaged: 2020-05-12 14:58:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,306
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19231447
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gellsbells/pseuds/Gellsbells
Summary: Harry has been captured and when the Charmed Ones find him he is trapped within a prison of his own making, one where he is forced to face his greatest fears. The Charmed Ones work together to bring Harry back home.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Cinder](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cinder/gifts).



> This is my part of a fic swap with the wonderful Lunadove (Cinder) if you haven't read her fic yet, then get onto it, it's amazing. 
> 
> There is a trigger warning for self medication (numbing emotional pain).

Harry's eyes searched the room again, before he let out another shout, knowing in his own mind it was pointless. His throat burned, a painful reminder of his vain efforts to raise the alarm. 

The room was dark save a few torches lit against the bare brick walls. He lifted his head, trying to turn it as far as he could before pain ripped through his body. He closed his eyes, trying to draw on every ounce of strength he had remaining.

“A whitelighter,” a voice filled the darkness, bouncing off the walls and surrounding him. “I have not seen one of you in so long.” He felt a cool breeze on the back of his neck as the figure moved behind him.

He tried to pull at the invisible binds around his wrists, an unseen force keeping him secured to the chair in the middle of the room. All his powers dampened as he cannot even orb himself out of his predicament.

“You cost me three witches.” There was an edge to the voice, a decidedly unhappy one. “The charmed ones no less.” Harry breathed a sigh of relief that at least the sisters had managed to get away, he could at least find some comfort in the thought that they were safe.

“I could have fed off them for years,  such raw power,” a groan of frustration, “But, for now you will have to do.”

He felt a stab at the side of his temple as he screamed in pain, the world around him fading to black.

* * *

 

 

Harry was grateful when he opened his eyes to familiar surroundings. The Vera-Vaughn attic where he had again made a temporary room for himself, following the events of the very near-apocalypse. His body felt immediately at ease. He knew the sisters would find him. 

He pushed the blanket from his torso, getting up, waiting for the head spin to hit him but it never came. His fingers traced over what had been a swollen lip seemingly moments before. A concern growing about just how long he had been unconscious. He wondered whether he should shout out to the other occupants of the home. To let them know he was up and okay, fully aware of the teasing that would follow. A sure quip from Mel about how they had saved his ‘ass’ again. 

 

The house was unusually quiet for the time of day, the sun streaming through the stained glass window, that had been repaired so many times he had lost count. 

“Maggie,” he called out, waiting for a response. “Macy?” he tried as he made his way across the room. He caught a glimpse of his shape in the mirror, stopping to examine it closer. There was none of the expected marks from his ordeal, the fight with the demon or whatever that thing was. He moved downstairs, the creaking of the steps from his weight echoing around the empty home.

He felt a sigh of relief as a he saw a familiar shape moving across the hallway, entering Maggie’s room. 

A glimmer caught his eye as he entered the doorway. A light, much brighter than this world around him. Only a sliver hidden behind the cupboard door in the corner of her room, before it was slammed shut. And the memory of it faded away, as quickly as it had been created. 

 

He turned his focus again to the youngest of his charges sitting at her desk. 

 

“Maggie!,” he exclaimed as he took in her appearance. Her cheeks sallow, her normally bright eyes, dulled. 

 

Her sleeves pulled up to reveal the source of her apathy splayed across her arms. The grey paste covered by a makeshift bandage, thick and heavy with numerous applications, so much so, it had now become ingrained into her own skin.

 

Her grief, her pain, now a part of her. 

She barely acknowledged him. Returning instead to her vanity to slather on the paste over the last application. The stench of the potion filled the room and Harry could feel his stomach turn.

He fell to his knees in front of her pulling the brush from her hand. She paused, turning her head and as her eyes met his, his heart sank, the brush dropping from his hand. This couldn’t be real. He searched his mind for the memories that made this make sense. 

 

They were there as well as the complete and overwhelming of failure. He had done this. He had failed her. As he had failed Fiona, even Charity in some way. 

 

He couldn’t stop the tears clouding his vision, the stab in his chest as he looked upon his charge. The one he was sworn to protect, a mere shell where such a vibrant and loving soul had once been.

“Maggie,” he said again, softer, his hand reaching to her cheek, cold to the touch. “What happened?” The memories in his mind so close he could almost grasp them. He knew it was his fault, but the specifics were missing. 

“You failed,” she replied, simply, before moving away from his touch to pick up the brush from the ground, returning it to the pot of ointment in front of her. He watched as she stroked it across her skin, repeating the incantation under her breath like a well rehearsed song.

“How long was I gone?” He asked her as much as himself. She said nothing, but the same incantation as her hand moves across her other arm. Another layer applied, he could feel her slipping further away and felt powerless to stop it.

 

“Macy?, Mel?” He sees a flash of something in Maggie’s eyes, before she lets out a small laugh. Not full of the usual joy and buoyancy that her laugh would usually carry, making him smile despite himself.

This laugh is cold, almost cruel.

“You’ll see.”

* * *

 

"Harry," Mel called out again, as the sister's searched the abandoned tunnels underneath the old hospital. Maggie's own voice echoed through the tunnels as she searched each room. It was unusual for Harry to stay out of touch for so long. 

 

As soon as they had called out for him and he hadn’t materialised in front of them immediately they knew something was seriously wrong. Maggie had managed to persuade the IT department at the college to be able to track his phone which had led them to the abandoned hospital on the edge of town. 

"Mel, Maggie," Macy's voice rang out from another end of the tunnel. Maggie ran in the direction of her sister's voice. When she entered the room to find Macy crouched down by the side of an unconscious Harry slumped in a chair. 

"Harry," Maggie let out, moving down to her sister's side. There was a deep gash across his forehead, his lip swollen and bruised. His breathing was deep and calm, despite his outward appearance and the sheen of sweat across his brow. 

"He's not responding." Macy said, her fingers shaking as she moved them across his arm. Maggie turned to see Mel enter the room, her face mirroring her own at the sight of their whitelighter. Maggie leant forward to get a closer look, recoiling as Macy shifted his head up and his eyes opened. 

"Macy his eyes." They were black, completely, as though he was possessed. Mel, entered the room, her breathing heavy.

"We need to get him out of here." Mel said matter of factly as she assisted Macy and Maggie to lift him from the chair, a dead weight, leaning against them as they made their way back to the car. 

* * *

 

Harry was still trying to piece the fragments of his memory together. They were foggy and messy, shifting away just as he managed to pin them down. Whatever was going on here could wait, now he needed to snap Maggie out of ‘this’ and he knew no-one would be able to get through to her like Mel. He pulled the brush from her hand again, the other hand reaching for the potion as she grasped at the brush. 

 

Making both disappear with a snap of his fingers. 

 

“I needed that,” Maggie almost snarled back at him, a glimpse of emotion, before she shrank back inside herself again, the magic taking hold. 

 

“We need Mel,” Harry asserted, “Where is she? Perhaps the Power of Three can-” Maggie’s laugh cuts through him again, there is an edge to it that catches him of guard before the sadness replaces it. Tears welling in her eyes. 

 

She rubs, her sleeve over her eyes, mopping up the tears before they have change to fall, “There is no power of three.” 

 

"What do you mean there is no power of three?" There has to be, unless the prophecy was wrong. They defeated Alistair, the source’s power split between three, there shouldn’t be any reason. 

"Mel's dead." The words hit him like a train. She couldn't be. There is no way that she could be. Before he had been captured her she had been safe. Giving him a piece of her mind as she usually did as they sat at breakfast. Had that demon been able to use Harry to find her. 

"How?" He manages, as the strength leaves his body and he slumps on the floor next to Maggie’s chair. His head in his hands as a feeling of hopelessness overwhelms him. 

 

* * *

 

They had already spent hours flipping through the pages trying to find something that could point them in the right direction. Maggie was ready to give up, while Macy continued to pour over the book in some kind of vain hope that they might have missed something. 

 

Maggie stayed by Harry’s bedside, occasionally resting her hand on his arm, hoping that this might be the time she is able to reach him. But still there is nothing, whatever has Harry under it’s hold is strong enough to keep her out. 

“Anything?” Mel asked as she entered the attic. Macy muttered a simple no, while Maggie continued to stare at her phone. She had sent the text to Parker an hour ago and still no response.

 

He had left Hilltowne weeks ago, and she had heard nothing since. The text to him had been a last ditch effort to save their Harry.

 

The more she thought about it, texting Parker, the more hopeless it felt. But she had to do something. If something was in Hilltowne and had been powerful enough to take out a Whitelighter perhaps it had created stirrings in the demon world as well.

“Maggie?” Mel repeated, and Maggie looked up from her phone to her sister. 

She shook her head, “Nothing.”

Mel slumped in one of the chairs, “The Sarcana are still in hiding, so no luck there. I’m not sure they would even help us anyway.” There was a bitterness in her voice, and Maggie could feel her pain, even from across the room. “They didn’t want to save him before.”

Maggie turned her attention back to her phone. Bolting upright from the chair, her heart lifting as three dots appeared. He was typing. She held her breath, knowing it could just be a ‘No’, a reminder that they were not going to happen,  but also that it could be something else.

It was one word.

“Belial.” Maggie said aloud, both sisters turning to her.

“What did you say?” Macy asked, moving away from the book to join Mel at Maggie’s side. Maggie held up her phone so they could both see the text from Parker.

“Is it a demon?’ Mel asked. 

 

Macy, instead rushed back to the book, frantically flipping through pages which such force that Maggie was afraid that she might just rip the pages clean out. She stopped suddenly her finger moving down the page, before giving a strong tap. A triumphant smile on her face, brought a wave of relief to Maggie, who quickly replied a thank you to Parker before moving to the pedestal.

“Belial, a fallen angel. All his dominion is darkness, and his purpose is to bring about wickedness and guilt.” Macy read aloud, and a sinking feeling returned to Maggie. 

A fallen angel, great.

 

“He finds his sustenance in a world of his victim’s own making,” Macy continued, “Continuing to feed until all hope is gone.” Macy looked towards Harry.

“So if this ‘thing’ has Harry then it is keeping him trapped. In a prison of his own guilt.” Maggie put her hand over Macy’s, squeezing it gently. She tried to block the thoughts that came streaming into her mind, but they came anyway, she wouldn’t mention them to Macy, what she heard it wasn’t for her to hear or know. 

“Which Harry probably has in spades.” Mel muttered. 

 

Macy turned away from the book to return to Harry’s bedside, while Maggie moved in front of the book, her eyes skimming over the words. There had to be some way to break him out. Everything had a weakness. Harry had taught them that. Everything had something that they were afraid of. 

“Here,” she shouted a little louder than she meant, her finger resting over a passage of text, “Belial is blind to the hope of man.”

“Okay,” Macy replied, and Maggie could see her mind working over this information, trying to solve this particular puzzle. Beginning to pace around the room as she did so.

“If Harry is trapped in his own mind, and this Belial is feeding off his guilt, manifesting it. We need to drive him out.”

 

“With hope,” Mel added. “Maggie, hasn’t Harry been working with you to develop your powers?”

 

Maggie nodded, Harry had spent time with each of them. Trying to help them to develop their powers further. For Maggie this had meant trying to reach someone’s emotions and increase their effect. It was still new and she was nowhere even near confident it, but she had still been eager to share her progress with her sisters, following each training session. 

 

“I’ve tried to reach him,” Maggie responded shaking her head, “I could amplify his emotions but there is some kind of block.”

 

“Wait,” Macy returned to the book, “I’m sure I saw something here about entering someone’s mind.”

 

“Macy, I don’t know-” Maggie started.

 

“Here,” Macy pointed to a page within the book, “We need an empath, check. Seems like a simple spell. But it will take all three of us. I don’t think any of us should go in their alone anyway, just in case Belial catches on to what we are doing.” Mel nodded in agreement. Maggie hesitated, going into someone’s mind was fraught with moral complications, and there was that always nagging part of her mind that told her she might not be strong enough. Her power might not be enough. 

 

Mel took her sister’s hand, “And you would have our power as well. Harry is always telling us we need to work together.” Macy nodded in agreement, taking Maggie’s other hand.

 

Maggie could feel their strength already, their faith in her, in the power that they shared gave her confidence that they that they would get Harry back.


	2. Chapter 2

Harry tried to concentrate on Maggie’s words but found his mind straying. But through the fog, and the feeling of his heart being ripped from his chest, she tells him that she was with the Sarcana when Fiona decimated them. 

 

But that can’t be right. 

 

Mel was with them when Fiona turned against them, already knowing that something wasn’t right, when they wouldn’t help him after the elders she had returned home. However the more he thinks about those memories the falser they feel. 

 

A lie he has told himself to shield himself from the bitter truth. He has lost another charge. Another witch placed under his care that he has failed to protect. 

 

Maggie returns to stare at the mirror and he knows now that it is fault that Maggie has lost herself. The grief of losing her sister. A sister that he had taken an oath to protect, at all costs. 

 

“She went back because of you.” Maggie says softly, reaching into her drawer for another container of the salve that numbs her pain. Her fingers tracing the edge of the lid, and Harry wills her not to open it. “She wanted the Sarcana to help you, and then Fiona returned.”

 

“That wasn’t how it happened,” Harry mutters to himself. 

 

Maggie slams the drawer shut, Harry flinching at the sound that fills the room as she does so. She stares at him, meeting his eyes for the first time, without looking past him. 

 

“She’s gone, Harry. However it happened,” she returns to the mirror, opening the small container, a sigh as she does so, “she died trying to save you.”

 

Harry had always known the relationship that he had formed with the sisters was dangerous. There was a reason that Whitelighter’s stayed on the peripheral, why they had no ties to the world around them. Relationships had power, relationships could be exploited and used for leverage. 

 

He couldn’t keep himself separate from the sister’s try as he might. It had been selfish to think of the them as family. To allow them to care for him in such a way that they would put themselves at risk and Mel had paid the price. Maggie too. And -

 

“Macy,”he searched his memories for her and came up empty, hesitant to trust his own mind. Discounting any memories that brought him any happiness as another lie.  

 

“Trust me Harry,” Maggie sneered, “You don’t want to go there.” 

 

* * *

They had manged to get Harry down to the Veribus Vortex, which had not been an easy feat in itself, but with a few additional spells from the Book of Shadows they had managed to safely get themselves and Harry down to the secret room beneath their home. 

 

It wasn’t the most concrete of plans, Macy had admitted as they had gingerly placed Harry lying in the middle of the Veribus Vortex. They knew that hope was Belial’s weakness, so if it was able to feed off Harry’s nightmares perhaps the strengthening of his dreams would drive the fallen angel out, with any luck even vanquish him. 

 

It was all they had. Maggie tried not to dwell on the fact that the Book of Shadows may be so vague because no one had actually managed to defeat Belial. 

 

Mel lit the candles around the room, preparing for the spell. 

 

Macy knelt down beside Harry, his pin clutched in her hand placing it gently in his jacket pocket. Maggie noticed the way her hand trailed across his cheek, before she turned away feeling guilty at bearing witness to her sister’s private moment.

Her mind turning to what else they might see in Harry’s mind, how many private moments they would ‘stumble’ upon, in search for something that would be powerful enough to free him. 

“Should we even be doing this?”

Macy and Mel paused, each turning to their sister. Maggie pulled at her sleeves. She had always tried not to stumble upon the thoughts of those around her those that she held dear. She didn’t need them to think that she was intruding upon their private thoughts. Occasionally though she had accidentally read their whitelighter’s thoughts, feeling guilty about the intrusion.  But this was something else entirely.

Entering Harry’s mind would mean being privy to his most private of thoughts. Maggie shuddered at the thought of what one might find if they went into hers. It made her feel sick. 

“We need to Maggie,” Mel took her sister’s hand in her own, her tone unusually soft, “the alternative-” she trailed off. Macy stepped forward taking Maggie’s other hand.

 

“The alternative does not bear thinking about, because we are going to bring him back home.” She gave Maggie’s hand a gentle squeeze. Maggie took a deep breath centring herself as her sisters continued to hold her hands.

 

She felt a little better that she would not be intruding on her own, that she would not be the only one to bear the burden. Reminding herself Harry was part of their family and they would not leave him behind. 

“Let’s do this. Together.” She said, pushing down the fear rising to the surface that they might just not succeed, instead tapping into the part of herself that told her that they could.

“Okay,” Macy let go of her hand, turning again to the book of shadows. Her fingers running over the page. Maggie knew that she was re-reading the same passage again. The same one she had already read ten times, just to make sure. 

Maggie smiled at her sisters, who smiled back, “Let’s do this.”

 

* * *

Harry found himself outside the Crane Industries Labs, trying to quell the burning heat in his gut. Maggie had told him of course, but seeing it for himself had his stomach twisting into knots and wanting to intervene. 

 

Macy was with Alistair. 

 

They were speaking like old friends, his hand resting on her arm, as she let out a laugh at something he had said. She looked like Macy, but there was something different. He stayed hidden observing the private conversation between the woman who was once his charge and now was sharing wine with the very demon who had tried to destroy the world.

 

He stays, as Alistair leaves the labs. Sticking the shadows, instead of orbing. 

 

“Harry,” she says, without looking in his direction, and he steps out of the shadows of the office. “I haven’t seen you in some time.” He notes the way her voice holds no emotion, no fondness is found there. He remembers their times together up in the old attic, her telling him that he belonged to something, and him reminding her that she did too. 

 

“Macy, I-,” he doesn’t know what to say. If there is even anything that he can say to make this better, “I’m sorry, I should of-”

 

“Don’t,” she stops him raising her hand and despite his mouth moving no sound comes out. “I can see why Charity was fond of this one.” Her mouth twists in a smile, that looks out of place on her face. He clutches his throat, as she finally drops her hand and he feels his voice return. 

She moves towards him, her head tilted slightly as she examines him with interest. Her hand moves to his cheek, her touch soft and delicate, he finds himself leaning into it. 

 

“Poor Harry,” she muses, “those feelings still floating around in there.” She pulls her hand back abruptly and he falls forward in the absence of her touch steadying him. 

 

“This isn’t you Macy.”

 

“Is that why you’re here? To come and see what you have created? You were both so scared of me.” Her eyes flashed black, and Harry finds himself turning away. Unable to face what she has become and the hand he has had in making it happen. She laughs at his response, moving away from him again. 

 

“So you sided with Alistair?”

 

“Alistair understands me. Understands my pain. He isn’t afraid of my darkness, he embraces it. He embraces me.” 

 

“Macy,” his tone is soft as he takes a step towards her, sure he has pulled her from the brink once before and that he can do it again. That he has to. Has to somehow right the wrongs he has committed. 

 

“Don’t use that tone Harry. There was a time when I would have fallen for it. Seeking yours and the Elder’s approval. But now I know better. Everyone around you Harry pays for your mistakes.”

 

And as much as it hurt, he knew, he just knew. She was right.

 

* * *

 

The sister’s found themselves in their own home, for a moment confused as to whether the spell had even worked. It isn’t until another Mel moved from the kitchen behind them directly through them that they have their confirmation that the spell has worked and they are in Harry’s mind. They look at each other before they follow the other Mel into the dining room. Watching the scene unfolding in front of them. 

 

“We’re all here,” Macy whispered, seeing them all sitting at the table with the notable exception of Harry. 

 

“Come on, Harry,” the Maggie within Harry’s mind shouted, “we are starving.” Mel rolled her eyes at the opposite side of the table at her sister’s eagerness. 

 

“Coming,” Harry’s voice sounds from the kitchen. He enters the room beaming, holding a tray in front of him, placing it on the table in front of the sisters. 

 

“It looks amazing Har,” Maggie smiles, and Harry gives a little bow. His face beaming. 

 

“Well I’m afraid I can’t take all the credit.” It is then that a small girl runs into the dining room, soft brown curls bouncing as she wraps her arms around Harry’s legs, looking up at him with a sense of admiration that Maggie knows all too well. It’s the same look she and Mel would give their mother. 

 

The girl’s small apron has patches of white flour on it, which have transferred onto the material of Harry’s slacks. He brushes them off as he bends down to give her a hug. Maggie’s heart warming at the sight of Harry, happy, his dream of a family real. 

 

“This is the one isn’t it.” Mel whispers in her ear, and she nods. She can feel it. The happiness and contentment of the world around them almost contagious. It is something that she can tap into. 

 

The other Macy moves to Harry’s side, her hand resting on the girl’s shoulder, a gently loving squeeze, before she leans up to press a chaste kiss against Harry’s cheek. 

 

Maggie hears the real Macy next to her gasp in surprise at the revelation, and she feels thankful that it does not seem that she is able to read minds within this world. Before they can see any further Maggie concentrates on the feelings and emotions swirling around her, her powers enabling her to tap into the power of Harry’s mind, as a bright glow begins to emanate around the figures in the room. 

 

She notes Macy and Mel both have their eyes closed, their hands tightly gripping her own, and she feels their power growing as well as she whispers to herself, “We’ve got you Har.”

 

* * *

She was right. 

 

Charity, Fiona, The Elders, Maggie, Mel, Macy. 

 

Those who had been closest to him were lost. Because he couldn’t protect them. A whitelighter who couldn’t protect those they were sworn to protect was no use to anyone. 

 

“I should go,” he said, turning away from Macy, knowing that now she, like Mel and Maggie, was lost. And he was truly alone. The way it was meant to be. 

 

As he went to leave the room he swore he could hear a knock. He turned back towards the room, noticing that Macy too had heard it. Her eyes darting around the room trying to identify it’s source. 

 

It came again, louder now. 

 

They both turned to the storage closet door in corner of the lab, and Harry could almost swear it was glowing. He moved towards the door, the light glowing stronger now and he knew it was not just a figment of his imagination. 

He was almost there when his body froze. He looked over his shoulder to see Macy, her hand outstretched, holding him in place. 

 

“You need to stay here Harry.” Her eyes flashed black, before glowing again, the source taking over. 

 

Harry strained against the force pulling on his body, the knock on the other side of the door becoming louder and louder. More insistent. 

 

His hand managed to break free from her grasp, stretching out for the door handle, the light surrounding the door wrapping around his hand. It brought with it a feeling of contentment, of happiness that started to wash over him. His mind becoming clearer as it did, washing away the memories that he believed to be real to leave only the truth. 

 

He was loved, he had a home, he had a family. 

 

His body was able to move more freely and he grabbed the handle, yanking the door open as the light grew stronger and filled the room. 

 

He heard Macy scream, a twisted scream that did not belong to her. Not to the Macy he knew. 

 

And then all he could see and feel was the light. 

 

* * *

 

Harry looked up from his book to find Macy hovering in the doorway. He closed the book, putting it beside him, giving Macy his full attention. She hesitated at the door, before entering, as if deciding whether she was going to take that next step. 

 

“Tea?” he suggested, indicating to the pot next to him, always a spare cup ready just in case. Macy gave a nod as she took a seat on the couch next to him. Her hands folded carefully in her lap, as she watched him pour. 

 

He often felt that he was being examined by Macy, that she was analysing each movement and cataloguing it for later, building her hypotheses as she went. She smiled gently at him as he passed her the cup, taking a gentle sip, before placing it down again. 

 

He knew that she must have seen it. Maggie had been especially cagey about how they had managed to vanquish Belial, while Macy hadn’t been able to quite meet his eyes. He had worked it out for himself. 

 

It was all he had ever wanted, a family, a place to belong. Somewhere he could finally call home and mean it. 

 

“Harry,” Macy started, turning to face him, her eyes meeting his for the briefest of moments before she averted her gaze again. 

 

He resisted the urge to take her hand in his own, instead busying his own fingers tracing the edge of his teacup. 

 

“What we saw was incredibly private. And if you want to make us forget, we’ve spoken and it’s your choice.” She met his eyes again, “it should be your choice.”

 

He thought about how easy it would be, to just reset things back to the way they were. Things had already felt different between him and Macy after she had read his thoughts while inhabited by the Source. Despite how they had agreed to forget about it ever happening, he couldn’t shake the effect that Macy had on him. How he continued to long for something more. 

 

But she had lost Galvin, and he had given her the space she deserved. 

 

“Your sisters and you, Macy. I think of you as family. I have no shame in my hopes and dreams to be seen by those I hold closest.” Macy placed her hand on his arm, a gentle reassuring squeeze at his decision. 

 

“You know, I know we said to pretend like I never read your thoughts, that I should forget what I heard, but-” she paused, and Harry could feel his heart thumping in his chest at the mention of his inner most thoughts. 

 

“I don’t think I can.” Her fingers moved across the sleeve of his shirt, “I saw today, how things could be, how I want them to be.” Her eyes meet his and everything he could have hoped to see in her eyes is there. 

 

“Macy”, his tea cup is placed back on the table as he rests his hand over hers, his thumb moving across the back of her hand. 

 

Macy shifted closer, leaning forward as her lips ghosted against his, a brief touch, before she pulled back, looking at him expectantly for assurance that he was all in. 

 

His hand moved to her neck as he pulled her closer, his lips pressing against hers as he revelled in the kiss. 

 

He was home. 

  
  



End file.
